By the Lake
by Mercury-Moon-7490195
Summary: Sometimes they wondered what they needed to be happy. Other times, they knew. Vagabonds series, thiefshipping


"Oh sweet water!" Marik cried, falling at the edge of the lake and splashing it on his face. "We're stopping here, at least for the night."

"Fine by me," Bakura said, setting his pack down and surveying the land. "If you're not worried about bears and wolves coming down here to drink. What if they're hungry for a bite of Marik steak?"

"Fuck you," Marik laughed, shoving him away. "They'll take you first."

"I'd hardly be a mouthful," Bakura said. "They'd go for the one with more meat, and that's certainly you."

Marik smirked. "I could wrestle a bear. Better than you could. It'd snap you like a twig"

Bakura only laughed. "Let's hope the bears have enough sense to stay away from you then." He stripped off his clothes brusquely, tossing them aside and bracing himself for the water. "Coming in?"

Marik raised an eyebrow lazily. "And why would you think I'd want to do such a thing?" He asked, doodling a circle in the dirt with the toe of his shoe. "Is it going to be cold?"

"You'll have to be the judge of that." He dove into the water, disappearing for a quick moment.

Marik laughed as he resurfaced, spluttering. "It's nice," he spat, shaking water from his hair. "I swear."

"Well," Marik pulled off his shirt, fingers fondling at his zipper for a moment before pulling them completely down. "I suppose a dip wouldn't hurt." His eyes lingered on Bakura's as he strode towards the water's edge, the sun gleaming off his skin. With the practiced skill of an olympic diver, he disappeared into the water, gliding over to where Bakura was treading water and coming up with a splash.

"'S fucking freezing," he hissed, swimming gracefully in circles around Bakura's bobbing head. "Your balls are going to fall off if you don't start moving." His face swung into view, grinning. "And we wouldn't want that, now would we?"

"No," he kissed him quickly, before ducking under the water. He smirked as Marik's hand brushed his ass, shooting off into the murk. They darted and danced through the water; resurfacing for air only to have it stolen in a kiss.

"Later on," Marik murmured, catching up to him and wrapping an arm around his waist. "I'm going to fuck you til you can't move." He grinned into Bakura's neck, nibbling at the wet skin. "Then perhaps we'll get to stay here longer."

Bakura laughed. "If it puts you in this mood so easily, we'll stay here forever…" They slowly made their way back to the shore, the sun starting to set behind the trees as their arms intertwined. One by one, the stars appeared to look down on their intimacy, darkness falling as they lay together in the clear spring air. Marik's breath pooled on Bakura's neck, their limbs intertwined as they curled up on their blankets. The lake lapped gently against the shore, the frogs and owls their lullaby as Marik slept on. Bakura smiled softly, pressing his lips to Marik's before slipping from his grasp. He pulled on his pants, wandering over to the edge of the woods.

It was a beautiful evening, he had to admit, albeit begrudgingly. After last week's rains, it would be a godssend to be able to sleep without worry of Marik catching pneumonia. He strode along, gathering firewood in his arms. Thankfully abundant, it quickly appeared. Better than some of the places they had been. Places where their only kindling was empty fast food containers and the occasional handful of pine needles. Where, if they wanted to stay warm for the night, they would have to go out of their way to find a farmhouse, to find _people, _to steal their wood from.

People were far less trustworthy than the trees. You could count on a storm, or the wind, or insects gnawing their way through the twisted core…sticks and branches would always fall, and be left for anyone to take. No sneaking around, no need to worry about getting caught. The land, the woods were theirs, and he loved it. This was freedom, wasn't it?

_But is it to Marik? _He frowned, glancing back at their campsite. Were days like this enough to keep him out here forever? How long would this last before Marik missed his family and the comforts of a life back in society…everything he'd taken him away from. Would his wanderings eventually lead him back to Egypt?

He returned to the shoreline, careful not to disturb his still-sleeping partner. Curled up on the blanket, Marik's back leapt in and out of the flickering lighter flame as Bakura struck up their campfire. The shadows danced across the faintly outlined shapes, illuminating them in brief bursts. Just a few short years ago, he could barely have fallen asleep without something covering the scars, and now here he was…

Bakura turned back to the fire, brusquely tending to it and setting up their tarnished cookware. Humming an old song, the words long forgotten, he let the night wear on around him. Best to let Marik sleep when he could, especially if they were looking at going another round after dinner. Perhaps the sex would be enough to keep him…

Marik rolled over in his sleep, mumbling fretfully. Bakura's spoon paused, his eyes flicking over to the young man's troubled face. He sighed, setting it on the rocks beside him.

"…'Kura…no…"

Bakura crouched down next to him, resting a hand on his shoulder. Violet eyes shot open in panic, darting around before they fell on Bakura.

"The fuck did you wake me up for," he growled, pushing him away. "Bastard."

Bakura rolled his eyes, standing and returning to the soup. "Go back to sleep if you want," he said, lifting the spoon to his lips. "I thought you'd want food, but if I'm wrong—"

"Go fuck yourself." Marik rolled over onto his stomach, resting his face against his arms. Maybe he could get a few more minutes…

"Did you have the dream again?"

Marik glared up at him for a second. "No," he said, staring down at the ground. "Different one." His gaze softened, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Everything was on fire…_we _were on fire. I could feel it…"

Bakura looked up at him. "Should I put this out then?" he asked, nodding towards the the cooking flame.

"Don't be stupid." Marik pulled his khakis back on, not bothering to zip them before wandering over. Bakura scooted over without a word, still monitoring their dinner. A sigh that could have been the water on the rocks.

"That'd be a shit way to die, wouldn't it?" Marik murmured, watching the flames lick the underside of their soup pot. "Burning to death."

"Yeah…" Bakura grunted. "There are few people who deserve that sort of end."

Marik arched an eyebrow, watching him as the spirit avoided his eye. "Is something wrong?"

Bakura shook his head, hunching over the pot. He could feel the intensity of Marik's stare but shrugged it off, rummaging through his bag for their bowls.

"Hey." Marik's voice was soft as he hooked a finger under his chin, meeting his eyes. "Don't you go quiet on me."

Bakura smiled humorlessly, pulling out of his grasp. He carefully lifted the pot out of the fire with a long stick, setting it beside him. "You could be eating homemade koshary right now," he said quietly, as he dipped a bowl in the steaming soup. "Safe and sound with your family. That could be your life."

"Bakura—"

"You don't have to follow me like this. You can go back whenever you want, and I won't stop you…might stalk you back, but I won't—"

Marik cupped a hand over his mouth. "That could have been my life," he said. "If I hadn't met you, it very well could have been. And I'd be shooting up heroin every night and robbing banks out of boredom and loneliness." He pulled away, smirking. "Honestly, you should know better. Of course I miss my family, and even some of the things about Egypt, but I gave that up to be with you. And I'd do it again, and again, and every time anyone offered me that choice. I will always choose you."

"A terrible choice, really," Bakura replied. He handed Marik his bowl, trying to hide his relief. "Giving up luxury and heroin for sleeping on the ground and cheap beer."

Marik chuckled. "Like I could ever find anyone who could do what you do to me. That's a luxury I can't find anywhere else in the world." He drained his soup in a long gulp, staring at the fire. His hand found Bakura's and grabbed it tightly, fingers lacing together as they lapsed into silence. A loon called forlornly across the water, its cry piercing the air.

Marik shivered. "I think it got colder since the sun went down. You're going to have to find a way to keep me warm tonight."

"You'd be warmer if you were wearing a shirt," Bakura replied, digging around in his backpack again. "Which, luckily for you, I can fix." He pulled out a clean, slightly wrinkled purple hoodie and tossed it to Marik. "I was going to save it for later, but it might be put to good use tonight."

He gazed at it in awe. "It almost looks like the shirt I was wearing back when I met you…" Marik smiled sincerely, slipping it over his head. "It's soft…" he leaned over and kissed him firmly, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. "You are the best."

"I know," Bakura replied, tugging him into his lap. Their lips pressed together again. Marik's heart hammered out a fierce beat under Bakura's hand, and the spirit smiled. As their limbs tangled further, his fears lay forgotten on the rocky lake shore, left to die under the unbridled stars.


End file.
